Dernhelm Am I
by Byelkushka
Summary: The tale of Eowyn's ride to war and what happens after, told from her perspective. Part II just posted!
1. Part I

This is my first Fanfic, please give feedback! Part two is on the way. I hope you like it(  
  
Note that I do not Own Eowyn, Aragorn or any other characters from LOTR… and I don't own LOTR itself… though I wish I did.  
  
"I say to you lady: Stay! For you have no errand to the south."  
  
I ponder the words that the lord Aragorn spoke to me, and my heart fills with the desire to be free. For I want nothing more then to escape my cage, and ride with my brothers, ride with my people, ride with my love. But alas, my love has left me now, and I despair that I shall never come upon his face again. For long hours I have shut myself in my chambers, my heart aching in sorrow, my eyes filled with unseen tears. But I have made up my mind now, and I know what I must do to ease my pain.  
  
I look to the mirror, into the glass that is a smooth as a lake on a calm summer's day. In it, I see a reflection that is not my own, no indeed it is not. For no longer do I look upon the White Lady of Rohan, rather I see a soldier, young and strong. He is dressed as a rider in mail and tunic, and he bears a sturdy helmet upon his head, which allows one to see nothing but his eyes, gray as the mountains, and filled with such determination as I have never known.  
  
He removes the helmet, and again I see myself in the reflection. The woman with the golden hair, the woman of sorrow whom all other's pity. I place the headgear on my bed and strap my sword to my side. I will ride to war and win honor and renown. For no longer I am Eowyn, Eomund's daughter. I am Dernhelm, rider of the mark.  
  
~*~  
  
My uncle and brother ride from Isengard, victorious. I rode to welcome my kin, and they greeted me with warmth and told me of their tales in battle. And though I was glad for their victory and safe return, my heart ached, for I was not there to fight along. I bid them to the table where we ate and drank merrily, but not long into our feast, a great man wearing the clothes of Gondor entered He, was a messenger, for I had seen those of his type many times before. In his hand he bore a red arrow, and he spoke to my king of the war to the south. He begged for our aide, pleading that we were Gondor's last hope. This was no news to me, for I had sensed the oncoming war for some time now.  
  
I excused myself and slipped away to my own quarters. There I pulled over me a green cloak, which was warm and heavy and made for a man much greater then my size. I lifted the hood over my head, hiding my face, and under it's cover I slipped out into the night, for I had many errands to do before the dawn broke again.  
  
I moved cautiously through the camps, where endless numbers of men patrolled back and forth, making preparations for the ride ahead of us. They spoke in gruff voices to one another while filling their quivers or saddling their great horses. I passed warily through the rows of tents, at last coming upon a building that was tall and smelled strongly of hay.  
  
Entering the stables I found it remarkably empty, as a majority of the horses were already removed and being made ready for the journey. I searched the rows for a suitable horse, for I would not be able to ride my own mare to the battle, I most certainly would've been discovered for sure. I found my new steed in Windfola, a young gray stallion who, despite his age, was swift and powerful. He longed for war as I did, I could see it in his dark eyes. He had been trapped in the stable since his master died not long ago, and has yearned so much to be free, to run over the plains again and ride to battle.  
  
I took his large head in my hands and stroked his nose softly. I spoke lightly to him and fed him an apple from my pocket to earn his trust. Without trust, a horse and rider could not be successful in battle. For a long hour I stood beside the horse, until I knew midnight was near. Then I slipped away on light feet and returned to my tent unseen. I needed to rest up, for tomorrow I ride to Gondor.  
  
~*~  
  
Morning never dawned, the sky remained black as the night and my people were greatly disturbed. I new dark arts were behind the occurrence, but I had no time to ponder anymore. In the full outfit of a rider, I came to Windfola once again, and saddled and bridled him. I loaded my pack with all I could bring with me, and together, the great stallion and I left the stable and joined the host of riders that formed outside.  
  
The king and my brother stood ready at the front, surveying the troops and keeping order among them. I saw the Halfling riding towards them upon the pony Stybba, and as he neared me, I saw him look up. Our eyes met, but I turned away in fear of my being discovered.  
  
As I watched him pass, I realized the he also felt much pain. All his company had gone, leaving him behind, and now in Rohan he must stay against his wishes. I thought of how I was able to escape my cage, but Meriadoc was not as lucky as I, he was too small to ride the horses of the Rohirrim, and Stybba could not keep pace with the great steeds. But my uncle permitted him to ride with us as far as Edoras, but there he would be left, unless…  
  
On the course of the journey a plan began to form in my mind. I would take the halfling with me, and together we would ride to glory, for I knew Windfola could bear us both the way. It took little time to reach Edoras and we came to a stop once again. Before the Golden hall, I saw the disappointment in the halfling's demeanor. He seemed to be waiting, just waiting for the king to ride to his side and invite him along. But alas, the event never came to pass. So instead it was Dernhelm who rode to him, and it was Dernhelm who offered to carry him to Gondor.  
  
I saw the gratitude in the halfling's bright eyes, and I set him up before me, and covered him in my cloak. And together we escaped our cages and rode to war. 


	2. Part II

Ok, here is part two. (There will be four in all) It's a little shorter then part one I think, but oh well. Um, I hope you like it, and thanks for everyone who has already reviewed part one(  
  
Lauren  
  
I don't own LOTR or any of the characters in it. Darn.  
  
The ride was long and tiresome, but both Meriadoc and I bore it well. We spoke little, each afraid to give ourselves away, but when a song rose through the air, we joined along as best as we could. For many hours we rode without stop, and when we grew too weary to go on, we would rest for a while, and eat from our rations before mounting again and trudging on. At these aforementioned rest stops, I instructed master Meriadoc to lay in one of my blankets and be still, and at first he did so, finding comfort and sleep, but as time passed I saw he grew lonely and wished for someone to speak to. Oh how I wished I could help ease his pain, but I feared I would be discovered, and so stayed quiet.  
  
As for myself, I would sit around the campfires with my fellow riders, eating quietly and keeping my head low. I had the feeling that they wondered who I was, so still I was quiet, for I knew that great disaster would follow if it were discovered that their Lady Eowyn was eating and riding beside them, dressed as a humble soldier.  
  
Again we rode, and now Meriadoc sat behind me under my heavy cloak, clutching to the fabric with his small fists. He was tired and starved, but I think he was grateful to at last be reuniting with his friends that he had spoke so much about.  
  
I too was weary from lack of rest, and the chain mail that I had once bore happily began to show its weight, and put pain upon my whole body. I had lost track of the days since I had last beheld Meduseld where I grew up, and I had doubts inside that I would ever see it again.  
  
My eyes began to close as I slipped in and out of consciousness. I heard nothing but my own heartbeat and the pounding hooves below me, and I wanted nothing more then a soft bed and a light gown to replace the heavy uniform that was upon me. I had never ridden to war before, and I suppose I had never realized how much of a toll it took upon the rider. I started to rethink my decision, though I knew it was already too late to turn back. But then I remembered the real reason why I was here. For honor, to prove that I was as strong as any man, to show everyone that I will not be left at home doing chores, and for Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn… my mind had not dwelt upon him for days, and again I began to see his face in my thoughts, and I remembered the words he spoke to me, and I wondered if I would ever see him again.  
  
Without realizing, the company of riders had slowed to a trot as we neared a dark forest that surrounded us on all sides. Soon we had all stopped, and sat upon out mounts nervously wondering the cause of our delay. Slowly I eased forward, until I was able to set eyes upon my king. Though there were thousands of soldiers, it was never difficult to pick him out of a crowd. He sat high and noble upon his gleaming white horse, his chin up and shoulders set high. Beside him was my dearest brother, whose face was hard as stone, and before them both was a figure that looked like a small man, though I knew not if he was a man at all. I had seen his kind only a few times before, and that had been enough, for I heard of the dangers that they brought. However, I saw that my uncle feared him not, but rather spoke to the squat little man for some time. I was weary still, and heard not what conversation was passed between the two, but soon a call was sounded to dismount our horses and lead them through the remainder of the forest.  
  
I took Windfola by the lead and walked him for hours, till the afternoon where the stout little man left us. We were allowed to mount again as the night came, though day and night seemed the same thing to all of us.  
  
I could see the walls of the Pelannor coming to view and we came to a gallop. It was then that I made my move in the darkness, traveling up through the riders and taking my place quietly behind the kings guard.  
  
Orcs patrolled the walls but there were few, and swiftly they were slaughtered or scared off and we passed through, the city of Minas Tirith ahead, blazed in flame. I drew my sword from its sheath, and my uncle sounded the horn as we rode on, hearts soaring and ready for the fight.  
  
Meriadoc was now before me again, and he hung on Windfola's mane desperately as I moved the stallion across the fields, slaying orcs along the way. Never before had I killed an Orc, but I found the task easy, as many were slow and unskilled fighters. As I fought for honor, I noticed that there were none of the Dunedain present, and I despaired, for Aragorn was surely gone, and I would never see him again.  
  
I knew however, that I had to keep fighting. As I did, I kept my eyes upon the king and his gleaming steed, but it was not long before the pearly light of Snowmane's coat was covered in shadow.  
  
Windfola reared up, tossing his head wildly and throwing the halfling and myself to the bloodstained ground. I returned to my feet, dazed but unhurt, and I saw the land covered by a shadow that made my bones rattle. But under the shadow I saw a sight that broke my heart to a thousand pieces. Snowmane, my kings noble steed, fallen. And below him lay my uncle… crushed.  
  
The darkness above was embodied by a creature that filled my heart with dread, riding upon a fell beast, as I have never seen before. It was covered in a mantle as dark as the blackest night, and it bore a bright crown, but upon what it rested I did not know. I felt terror within but still I stood strong, for the fate of my king was in my hands.  
  
I drew my sword.  
  
  
  
Haha… cliffhanger. Don't worry. I have part 3 finished for the most part, and it should be up later tonight if I'm lucky. 


	3. Part III

Yeah! 2 parts in one day! Part 4 hasn't even been started yet so it might be a while… I'm a little drained at the moment. Anyways, another shorter section. In the planning stages, 3 and 4 were just one chapter, but as I started righting, 3 got a lot longer then I expected and I decided to just do two separate parts. Anyways, review and enjoy!  
  
Lauren  
  
Disclaimer: Once again, though I wish LOTR were mine, It isn't. Nope, not one tiny thing.  
  
I woke to the strong smell of Aethalas, which flooded my senses and brought me back into consciousness. It was then for the first time that I felt the sharp, stinging pain in my shield arm, that bit like an attacking dog that refused to let go.  
  
I looked up at the faces of my healers, men and women whom I had never set eyes on before. However, there were a few whom I did recognize, among those were my dearest brother and that person whom I had dreamt of for so long… Aragorn. As I met his steel gray eyes with my own, I blushed and words escaped me entirely. I felt ignorant and childish and wanting nothing more then to hide under my sheets away from sight.  
  
I was a failure. I had been wounded in battle and now I lie in bed like one of the helpless woman whom I never wanted to be. I wanted to prove that I was strong and could do things for myself, and have no man pity me. But here I was, laying injured in bed, having been healed by the hands of the same man whom I had wanted to impress.  
  
To my great relief Aragorn soon left my side, and the other healers followed until only Eomer remained beside me. He held my hand softly and carried a great pain with him. We said nothing to each other for a time, but as I looked upon his face I was slowly reminded of my uncle, my king whom I had left upon the battlefield.  
  
To my greatest distress I was informed that he lay dead now, and that he had died before they had reached him. I wept then, wept for the first time in years, and it was then that the whole battle flooded into my mind.  
  
It was a dark vision, cold and void of happiness and I wanted to never relive it again but the memories raced in before I could stop them. I felt the chill in my whole body that I had felt once the witch king descended upon the Pelannor, and I shivered. I felt my fingers curl around the handle of my sword as I pulled it slowly from it's scabbard. I heard the voice of the dark rider as he spoke to me, and I remember the strength I held as I threw my helmet to the ground, unmasking myself. I felt the swing of my blade as it sliced through the neck of the great winged beast, and I remembered how my legs trembled as it's severed head hit the ground. But I also recalled the confidence that filled my whole being, focusing me on my purpose and goal. I heard the mace sailing through the arm, and felt the pain as it crashed down upon my arm, shattering the bones.  
  
The pain returned right then, and I sat up and screamed so loud that I felt the whole city had heard my cry. A nurse ran into the room and hastily told me to rest and be still as she wiped the cold sweat from my brow. I slumped back into my pillows but could not find comfort as the final moments of my battle replayed in my mind. I remembered again how I was sprawled on the ground, my good hand tightened around the hilt on my blade. I could smell the evil of the creature, as well as the death that surrounded me. Then I recalled how I had seen the halfling on hand and knee crawling quietly, and the look of terror that came over his face as the heavy mace was raised to deliver it's final blow upon me.  
  
But then time froze, and the mace fell heavily upon the barren earth, and without a thought running through my mind, I raised my sword with all the strength I could muster, and then… darkness.  
  
~*~  
  
I woke up from my dreamless sleep to a bright morning, as bright as any I had seen for a long time. My chamber was empty, but not for long. I nurse came in and delivered a message to me, telling that the men were to ride to Mordor.  
  
My heart sank. Not only because there was a chance I would never see my brother and my love again, but because I wanted to go with them. I thought of the battle of Helm's Deep, and how they had found victory, and how I longed to have been there more then anything. I would not be left behind again.  
  
I moved my legs for the first time since my fall, and swung them over the side of my bed. Slowly I lifted myself on wobbly legs in an attempt to stand, but I was still week and I feel, setting my arms before me to catch the fall. My broken limb hit the floor and I screamed, causing the nurse to rush in frantically.  
  
"Hell, just cut it off!" I snapped at her. She quietly came to me, confused, and took my other arm to help me up, but weakly I jerked away. "Cut it off!" I repeated. "I'm riding to war and I will not have this hinder me!"  
  
"M' lady, You ought get more rest, you are still weak from your wounds."  
  
"You have no right to tell we what I should do!" I defiantly got to me feet, and leaned against the bedside table for support. "I leave for war, inform the warden to have my belonging brought to me, and make haste."  
  
She looked at me, puzzled, then went to my bed and pulled back the sheet. "We have instruction from King Elessar that you are not to leave our houses under any circumstances. Now I suggest you get back into bed."  
  
I obediently did as she said, and lowered myself onto the mattress. I could not argue with Aragorn, and though I am ashamed to admit it, I knew I was in no real condition to fight.  
  
And so quietly I sat in my room, often sleeping or reading from the books that were brought to me. But most of the time I thought of Aragorn, who was now king, and I wished for him to come to my bedside, so I could see him just one last time. But he never came, instead it was Eomer who strolled in after lunch, taking my hand again.  
  
"I leave for Mordor my dearest sister." He said gravely. I looked him strait in the eye and told him that I knew. And he nodded and smiled. Outside a horn was blown, calling the soldier to war. My brother embraced me, knowing that this might be our last time together, knowing that he might never return. He placed his hand upon my head and ruffled my hair as he used to do when we were children, then he stood and turned for the door.  
  
"Brother," I said, "You are now king, bring honor to our country, bring it the honor that I failed to deliver."  
  
"But sister, not in a hundred lifetimes could I claim the renown you have found." With that simple comment, he turned and left and I feared our ways would never cross again.  
  
  
  
In case you wonder why I did the fall of the witch king as a flashback… I thought the original chapter was so perfect in ROTk that I didn't want to slaughter it horribly. So instead I did the flashback which just briefly recalls thoughts and feelings.  
  
Alright, next part coming soon: Eowyn meets Faramir… hmmm… 


End file.
